Dreaming
by NeeNeeChan
Summary: Jack's dream is finally taking shape, but not everything is going perfectly.
1. Prologue

_The darkness was closing in, suffocating him. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a soft breeze shifted the grass beneath his feet. He was walking. He didn't want to, but he couldn't stop. He had to see it again. He crested a low hill and looked down into the valley below, his breath catching in his throat. It didn't matter how many times he saw it, it was never any easier. Below him lay a broken, bloodied figure, the surrounding grass stained a deep crimson. The figure's features were twisted in agony, almost unrecognizable in their current state. He dreaded a closer look, but his feet moved him forward without his consent. Rain began to fall, but instead of cooling him, it scalded his skin. Rivulets of water ran down the face of the figure lying before him, coming away pink with traces of blood. He fell to his knees beside the figure, sobbing._

"_I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it…"_

_He clutched the figure's cold hand in both of his, surprised at the immense chill radiating from it. Then again, the rain… He was so hot… Sweat and tears blended with the rain, slicking his skin. His vision blurred as images flashed before his eyes, sweet memories of their time together. That second night… their reunion… thousands of smiles meant just for him… But the bad memories came, too. Their first night… all the times they'd parted… the punch. That had been the only time he'd ever struck the other, and he'd regretted it every day of his life since. He remembered every time he'd said nothing, remembered every time hurt had flashed in those beautiful eyes. His fault. The rain fell harder, forcing him to duck his head against the onslaught. He drew the cold figure into his arms, holding it close, protecting, shielding it form the harsh rain. The wind swirled through the surrounding trees, whistling and groaning, procuring voices for the sole purpose of torturing him. The trees twisted, changing shape to match the voices._

"_Sometimes I miss you so bad I can hardly stand it…"_

"_Once in a while? Every four fuckin' years?"_

"_It was his favorite place."_

"_You know it could be like this, just like this always."_

"_There ain't never enough time, never enough…" _

"_You have no idea how bad it gets."_

"_I-I understand. See you next month, then."_

"_I wish I knew how to quit you."_

_He clutched the figure tighter, this time seeking protection. He buried his face against the figure's neck and breathed in deeply, unmindful of the blood. That familiar scent was still there, still clinging to the now pale, cold skin. He closed his eyes, trying to pretend everything was all right, the love of his life wasn't dead. The figure shifted and his eyes flew open as a cool hand came to rest against his cheek._

"_You're burnin' up! You okay?"_

_He looked down into the brilliant eyes - well, eye. One was swollen nearly shut._

"_Let me get you some water or something'."_

_The figure began to fade._

"_No! Don't go! Please, not this time…"_

_The figure smiled at him, a soft, sad smile._

"_Shh… I'll be right back."_

_Within moments, the figure had faded form his arms completely. The sense of loss he felt was palpable. 'It shouldn't be this bad,' he thought bitterly. 'It's no different than any other time.' But it was. Because this time, they wouldn't meet again. There was no upcoming fishing trip to look forward to, no illicit meetings to smile about. Nothing. Just this cold emptiness of an existence, just waiting for the day he could join his lover. Lover. That's what they weren't, wasn't it? Despite all pretenses, they loved each other. Well, he wasn't sure how the other felt about him, but he was in love. And it had taken him far too long to admit it._

_He staggered to his feet, but fell back to his knees as a crushing weight lodged itself in his chest. God, it hurt so much. The trees leaned toward him, stretching their branches, eyes gleaming, offering a comforting embrace. He stood slowly. He would gladly walk into certain peril if they could meet even just one more time. He stopped just out of reach of the flailing branches, hearing a soft sound behind him. He looked back and couldn't stifle a gasp of astonishment or the small cry of fear that followed. There, standing in the middle of the clearing, was the figure he had so recently held lifeless in his arms. There was no blood or bruising marring the beautiful face now. Rather, the sensual lips were smiling softly, sparkling eyes beckoning him forward as much as the outstretched arms. But cresting the hill behind the figure was a band of men, all wielding tire irons and slowly, silently advancing. He ran forward, but made it only a few steps before the strong arms of the trees pulled him back. He tried to call out a warning, but a thin branch wrapped around his neck, depriving him of breath. The men moved closer. He struggled wildly, trying to break the hold of the trees to no avail. He didn't want to see this. He thrashed his head around and managed to break free for a split second, only long enough to scream once._

"_Jaaaaack!"_

He sat up abruptly, heart racing, breathing labored. His skin was covered in cold sweat, and he shoved the sheets onto the floor irritably. He drew his knees to his chest, rested his forehead against them, and cried. In the few days that had elapsed since that phone call, it seemed to him he'd done nothing but cry. Cry, drink, sleep, and cry some more. He'd forced down some soup the second morning, but it had reminded him too much of Broke back - and, hence, of Jack - and he'd been unable to keep it down. He hadn't tried since. God, it hurt so much. He'd thought several times of simply giving up and lying down. At least then he'd be with Jack. But he couldn't. At least not until after Junior's wedding. His little girl was all grown up now, gettin' married and everything, and she expected him to be there for her special day. Nineteen already… Nineteen… same age he'd been when he met Jack. The momentary smile disappeared again as he once more dissolved into tears. He rested the left side of his face in his right hand, a poor substitute for Jack's gentle caress. He sighed, trying to stop the tears. He had to go in to work today, and it was just about time to get up and grab a quick shower. He stood up, but sat down quickly as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. He waited a moment for his head to clear, thinking about the day ahead. _Just another day in hell…_

"Good to see yer finally awake."


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Sorry I haven't written in a while. What with all the assignments teachers invariably pile on at the end of the semester and final exams, I haven't had any free time. But I'm on break now, so I hope to get at least one chapter after this one finished. Also, I forgot to put this on the first chapter, but…

**DICLAIMER: **I don't own it. Sadly.

Ennis looked up, shock and disbelief evident on his face. There, leaning casually against his door frame, was Jack Twist. He couldn't speak, so afraid to break this moment, to shatter it into millions of pieces like the fragile thing it was. He couldn't breathe, either, so afraid this was another dream - a good one, this time - and he'd awake more cold and lonely than before. Lousy tradeoff for a few stolen moments that weren't even real, but he'd take what he could get.

He blinked several times, trying to clear away the image. Surely it was an illusion, a false reality his mind had come up with, a brief reprieve for his grief-stricken heart. But every time he opened his eyes, Jack was still there, the image unchanging save for the slowly growing smile. Finally accepting that, if a dream, this was gonna be a long one, Ennis sat up slowly and took in the figure before him. Jack was wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a blue shirt, but had removed his boots and hat. His face, clear of blood and bruises, was clean-shaven, taking years off his appearance. _He finally got rid of that damn moustache_, Ennis thought to himself, smiling at the welcome change.

"How ya feelin', cowboy?"

"Jack- What- How-…?"

"Shhh… Just rest. We'll talk later."

"Work-"

"Called ya in sick."

"Why-"

"Cuz yer sick."

"Jesus, Jack, let me say somethin'!"

Jack smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Ennis's heart warmed at the welcome sight of that smile, missed so badly for so long. "It's a'right, just wanted ta get a word in edgewise."

"M'kay."

Ennis paused for a moment, not really having had anything to say - it was just the principle of not having room to talk that irked him. Finally, he settled on, "It's good ta see ya an' all, but how are ya here at all? I'm hopin' and prayin' this ain't no dream, but it sure as hell feels like one."

Jack's smile broadened. "This ain't no dream, cowboy."

"Then-"

"Yep. I'm still alive after all."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Ennis. "Yer wife know?"

Jack's smile turned secretive. "Maybe she does, maybe she don't."

"Jack…"

The warning tone was evident, and Jack smiled again. It seemed he just couldn't stop doing that now that he was with Ennis again, now that Ennis knew he was alive. "Okay, okay. She does."

"Then why the hell ain't you down in Texas?"

"Maybe a'cause she's the only one that knows. Ever'one else down there thinks I'm dead. Cain't never go back."

"If she knows, then how come she ain't come and dragged yer ass back to Texas… or," he added, seeing that Jack was about to interrupt, "off to some other place where the people don't think yer dead?"

"Ennis…" Jack took a deep breath. This wouldn't go over too well, he just knew it. "She found out about us."

Ennis quickly stood, dizziness forgotten as he began pacing. "How'd she find out? How?!" Not really expecting an answer, he continued pacing. "An' more important, what're we gonna do?"

"Ennis… Ennis, calm down. Yer gonna wear a damn hole in them floorboards if'n you don' sit down!" Ennis returned to the bed he'd so recently vacated, once more taking a seat on the rumpled covers. "Now let me talk, and don' go interruptin'. She found out because I told her." He held up a hand as Ennis once more started to speak. "No, it was 'bout time she knew, anyhow. I figgered she deserved the truth 'bout why our marriage wasn't workin' out too well."

"How'd it go?"

"Well, she wasn't angry, if that's what yer worried 'bout. She said she'd suspected I'd been seein' someone else fer a few years now, just didn't know it was you. She was real understandin' 'bout it all, said if I was happy, then it was good, 'specially since she been seein' some guy over in Plainview. We talked fer awhile, decided her daddy would likely try somethin' if'n we got a divorce - my fault, or somethin' like that - so she came up with this."

"So, if she knew it was me, why'd she tell me you was dead when I called?"

"Yeah, she felt awful bad 'bout that. Came to see me that very afternoon, said she'd had to tell ya that a'cause L.D. was in the room at the time. So I redlined it up here ta let ya know I was a'right, an' here I am."

"So she's… _okay_ with this? With us?"

Jack nodded, understanding his disbelief and shock. Hell, he'd reacted much the same. "Seems so."

"And now yer here."

The statement was simple, yet profound. Jack had chosen to give up his life and any connection to Texas to come here, to Ennis. And it wasn't as if he could just go back if he changed his mind, which implied that his mind wouldn't change. It implied something far deeper than Ennis was willing to acknowledge at this point, something that frightened him beyond measure.

But Jack's hopeful look, his warm smile, so dearly missed as of late, were enough to put any misgivings he had on hold for the sheer joy of this moment. He stood and crossed the room in a few strides and embraced Jack, wondering silently how long this - they - would last before everything fell apart. He hoped to God it wasn't long.


End file.
